Trick
by ALEO
Summary: Another Halloween and another encounter with the Winchester brothers leaves Don under suspicion. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Numb3rs/Supernatural - Trick**

_**Disclaimer**__ – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs, Supernatural and associated characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Anything you don't recognise is a product of my imagination._

_**Spoilers - Numb3rs: **__nil. - __**Supernatural**__: nil._

_**A/N:**__ This follows on from my fic "Nightmare", making this the sixth in a crossover series which started with "Unexplained". Some references made to those earlier fics. This is not set in any particular season of either series._

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

Remembering to look to the left before pulling out of the Field Office Special Agent Don Eppes was not all that surprised to see the road virtually empty aside from Colby Granger's fast disappearing taillights ahead of him to the right. It was late, getting on to 11pm and it was Halloween which meant virtually everyone except for him and his team were at home or at a party. Well not for much longer, he was soon to be home for a quiet party with his family and his team, just like almost every other Angelino.

It had been a long day culminating in the arrests of two men over a string of occult related homicides. The body count was very high when compared to the 'norm' for serial killings, seven dead in just seven days. The last was this morning, their raid too late to save the final victim, an up and coming college football star. The other six victims were like the last one, athletes from track and field as well as basketball, baseball and now football. All fit young men in their prime of health and strength.

It was hard to believe they'd caught the true killers, two reed thin men in their mid-forties. Don shook his head as he drove across the next intersection, how could two men like that take down and kill their physically superior victims? The interrogations hadn't cleared that point up but they were more than certain they had caught the killers with the overwhelming evidence against them. Catching someone 'red handed' was no longer a figure of speech.

He almost missed the red light facing him but seeing it change at the last instant from amber he managed to pull the heavy SUV up with the front wheels just over the line. As he waited and no traffic passed he wondered why he'd bothered with the hard stop. Somewhat frustrated by the pointless wait for non-existent traffic he stared up at the red signal willing it to change to green so he could be on his way and home in time for barbeque rib-eye.

The passenger door opened and he quickly turned, his hand going to his holstered weapon. By the time he identified that a man had climbed into his SUV the door was slamming closed and then he froze in place as the face turned. It was Dean Winchester.

His heart rate spiked as he flashed back to the last time he'd encountered the fugitive. It didn't matter that it had been a nightmare, emotionally his last encounter was when Dean Winchester had been about to execute him as he knelt in the mud in front of an open grave. His reaction to seeing the man again was a rush of fear despite the fact they'd actually parted ways last time as something close to allies. The moments before that, when he'd been forced to protect a murderer from Dean's wrath, standing between Dean's gun and the man dubbed 'The Hunter', he had long since forgiven. Pulling himself together quickly he reminded himself the graveyard was a nightmare, nothing more. Whilst it couldn't be said he had nothing to fear from the man he should not be in any immediate danger. He loosened his grip on his gun and opened his mouth to speak.

"It's gone green," Dean said first.

Completely nonplussed Don stared at him. Whilst he had no idea what he was expecting the man to say, a comment about a colour made absolutely no sense.

"The light, it's green," Dean clarified. He jerked his head at the signal overhanging the middle of the road. "That usually means you can go."

Don was halfway across the intersection before he realised what he was doing. About to slam on the brakes his automatic check of his mirror had him continuing on. The set of headlights behind him were all too familiar, it was the Impala that the brothers favoured. It meant that he had both brothers to contend with. Not sure what the situation was he continued on.

"What are you doing here?" He finally demanded.

"On a hunt," the other man said as if that explained everything. "We need your help."

"Again?" Don asked as he felt the situation going south rapidly. Something he was finding to be normal where Dean Winchester was concerned. "What do you want from me this time? Your brother's safe."

Dean bobbed his head so he could peer into the wing mirror at the following vehicle. "Yes he is, and we still owe you for that."

Once again Don was reminded of the nightmare and he had to push the recollection aside. He cast the man a sideways look, noting this time that Dean was wearing a suit rather than his more normal jeans. Searching for something to say he said the first thing that popped into his head, "Actually, I almost could have done with your help this last week."

Whilst he'd had no such intention the thought had crossed his mind more than once. The case was something right up their alley, so much so he had been looking over his shoulder all week expecting the Winchesters could well make an appearance.

"That's why we're here," Dean confirmed.

"Then you don't need my help, we caught them today. It's over."

"No, we got here just in time. It does take a while to drive clear across the country, you know," Dean pointed out.

"Just in time? What do you mean?"

"Pull over so we can talk," Dean suggested.

Not too sure he liked that idea, Don didn't immediately comply. Stopping meant that Sam Winchester could join the conversation and the odds were bad enough with just the older brother with him. Then again, the older brother _was_ already with him and he was already sunk if that was what they wanted. Signalling he pulled to the right and stopped midway down the next block with the Impala sliding to a stop behind him. Sure enough a few seconds later the back door opened and a bag was tossed in before Sam Winchester climbed into the back seat.

"Hello, Agent Eppes," Sam said politely.

"Sam," Don managed in return. He'd had less to do with the younger man than the older brother. He was not easily going to forget however that it was Sam who had carved his arm open after he'd been bitten by what they claimed had been a werewolf. The significance of the date suddenly struck him, that night had also been Halloween. Next year he was taking leave.

"So is he going to help us?"

Dean shifted so he could see his brother easily. "I haven't told him what we want yet."

"Dean, we don't have time!"

"I know, I know," Dean answered.

"Don't have time for what?"

"All Hallows Eve is tonight," the other said as if that explained everything.

"Halloween. I know that," Don responded. A check of the clock in his dash showed it was 11:08pm. "It's almost gone in fact."

"No, the important time is midnight and that's fifty-two minutes away. Dean we have to move it," Sam insisted.

Having the brothers on their way sounded good to him, "Then you'd best be going."

"All right, so here's the deal," Dean started, drawing the agent's attention back to him. "We need you to get us into the Field Office."

"What!"

Dean continued speaking, ignoring the shocked outburst. "You took something into evidence from the scene today. We have to get it and gank what's in it before it's too late."

"You can't be serious," Don said incredulously. He glanced back and forth between the two men only to see that they were in fact very serious. "I can't do that."

"Yes, you can. We can pass as agents, you know that. We just need the in and we need it quickly, you can get us that."

It certainly explained why they were both wearing suits, they were preparing to impersonate federal agents again.

"No way," Don said firmly. "It might be late but there are plenty of agents in there, any one of them could recognise you."

"How many people are in the building?" Sam asked.

He wasn't going to give them that sort of information. "Enough. More than enough."

"If we don't get in there and deal what's in the box then they will all be dead by morning," Sam said ominously.

"How will they be dead? What box?"

"Made of dark stone, about this by this and heavy," Dean explained, shaping the dimensions with his hands.

"I remember it," Don snapped. He moved on to the more important point, "How will they all be dead?"

"The spell activates at midnight. You don't want it to get out; if it does it will kill everyone unless it is stopped. The more it kills the harder it will be to stop."

He didn't understand most of Dean's explanation but needed more information so he could phone in a warning. He'd seen and signed off on the exhibit list which included the stone box and there had been nothing threatening. Despite that there was only one thing that made any sort of sense based on what the Winchesters were telling him, "Is it some sort of gas, or a bomb?"

"No, it -"

"Yes," Sam broke in, clearly impatient. "It's a bomb set to go off at midnight. Let's go."

"Sammy," Dean started to argue.

"Dean, we don't have the time. He wants to think it's a bomb then it's a bomb," Sam insisted.

"I'm calling it in," Don stated. He got the phone off his belt but that was as far as he got before it was snatched out of his hand in an echo of a move Dean had pulled on him before.

"Fine, it's a bomb," Dean said in frustration. "We can 'defuse' it if we get to it in time, no-one else can."

"I'm not taking you in there, I'm getting everyone out."

"You're taking us in. I was going to say we'd make the same deal as last time," Dean started. "But I guess we'll just skip straight to that part instead."

"What deal?" Don started to say but it was already all too clear. When they'd last met Dean had asked for his help to save Sam, offering to make it look as though he were under duress if they were caught. He hadn't even seen Dean move but he could see the engraved Colt that had appeared in Dean's hand readily enough. Reacting to movement he turned slightly to see Sam's Taurus likewise aimed in his direction.

He let out a deep sigh and sat back in his seat, "You weren't really going to give me a choice, were you?"

"Well, I did try," Dean countered with a slight tilt of his head suggesting he found the accusation a touch amusing.

"This close to midnight we don't have the time," Sam said, simultaneously. In contrast to his brother he was all seriousness.

"You could have made the time, you could have called earlier rather than waiting for me to leave," Don argued turning from one to the other.

"Like we'd have known you were there," Dean scoffed.

"You didn't?" Don said in surprise. From the last encounter he'd got the impression that the Winchesters kept tabs on him whenever they were in town.

"Like I said, we just got here," Dean said. "We spotted you driving out just as we were figuring on how to get in."

"Dean," Sam called.

Understanding that Sam was impatient due to their short time frame Don let it go. "Fine. Whatever. So, how are we going to do this?"

"I'm sure you can figure that out. First things first," Dean said. He held out his spare hand, "Give it."

Another sigh escaped him as he handed over his Glock then, following the new motion of Dean's hand, the spare magazine from the holder on his belt. The weapon was handed back to Sam while Dean tossed the spare magazine into the foot well.

"Let's go," Dean ordered flicking his gun.

Checking once again for non-existent traffic Don pulled out and completed a U-turn to return to the Field Office. Behind him he could hear Sam unloading the Glock and then emptying the magazine.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Numb3rs/Supernatural - Trick**

_**Disclaimer**__ – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs, Supernatural and associated characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Anything you don't recognise is a product of my imagination._

_**Spoilers - Numb3rs: **__nil. - __**Supernatural**__: nil._

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

Far too quickly for his liking Don slowed and pulled the SUV into the entrance to the basement parking lot. Pressing his tag to the sensor he waited as the roller moved up.

"You walk around with that out they'll be all over us in seconds," Don said pointedly glancing at the weapon in Dean's hands.

"Just making it look good for when they check the cameras later," Dean explained, casually lifting the gun slightly and moving it a little closer to the windshield so it would be a touch more visible.

As they moved forward Dean shoved the gun back into his waistband. "It's not as though I really need it do I?"

"Yeah, you do," Don said.

He may have been a willing participant last time he'd aided the man, able to justify it as working a confidential informant to solve the string of murders but not this time. Not when there was an easier way to protect the agents and civilians working in the Field Office from whatever this dangerous thing was. Calling in a bomb threat would get the building cleared within minutes. It didn't matter that he knew it wasn't a bomb. It would work to get everyone out without the brothers having to try to explain to him whatever it really was. He also wasn't sure if he actually wanted to know.

Dean looked somewhat taken aback at the agent's response to what he'd clearly thought was a rhetorical question. "Are you usually this stubborn or is it just us? Most cops we deal with don't need this much convincing."

"I helped you last time because that worked to bring Best down and save Sam. This is just stupid, there is another way," Don argued.

"No there isn't, not to stop-" Dean broke off, shaking his head. Placing his hand deliberately back on the grip of his gun he pulled it out an inch or so in emphasis. "There's no point explaining it. If it makes you feel better to be forced to do this then you know we've both got these and you've got bupkis. That work for you?"

He responded with a tight nod, it worked for him. He drove to his usual spot and shut the SUV down. About to open his door he stopped as Sam's hand pulled at his shoulder. Looking back he saw the younger brother holding out the Glock.

"Here," Sam offered.

Reclaiming the weapon he felt the difference the lack of bullets made to the weight. Quickly dropping the magazine out he confirmed it was empty. It didn't take much thought to understand why the unloaded weapon had been returned, an empty holster would be a dead giveaway that something was wrong if they were spotted. With everything apparently in order he had a chance of talking their way out of potential trouble but he hoped it wouldn't come to that. Despite his earlier claim to there being sufficient agents in the building to pose a problem, when he'd left a few minutes before the building was very quiet. There was a very good chance they could do this without being challenged. Shoving the useless weapon into his holster he turned to Dean, glancing back at Sam to include him as he spoke.

"We go in, you do what you need to do with this box and whatever is in it, and then we get out. No one else needs to be involved, right?"

"Sounds like a plan," Dean agreed. "You can get into the locker?"

"Yes." As a supervisor he had access to the evidence locker on his floor and would not need to drag the Duty Agent into it.

"Forty-three minutes, Dean," Sam warned.

At the impatient reminder of time ticking away Don opened his door and climbed down, checking his gun was snugly in the holster through force of habit. Turning he saw the brothers were ready and waiting for him with Sam adjusting the strap from his bag across his shoulder. Without a word he strode over to the elevator and swiped his card over the sensor before pressing the call button. This was the in he could provide the brothers, no need for them to cook up some story to talk their way past the security checkpoint in the lobby and no need to find a way to ditch an escort. This way they could simply use his ID and get all the access they wanted.

The doors opened immediately on the same elevator he'd ridden down in only a short time before. Stepping in he turned and reached for the button for his floor but stopped at Sam's raised hand.

"Evidence locker's on eight," Sam said suspiciously.

"There's one on each floor," Don explained, ignoring as unimportant at that particular moment how Sam knew where the main long term store was. "We haven't moved the exhibits up to eight yet."

"No one else involved, right?" Dean repeated Don's words, as much warning as question.

"My office was empty when I left. The box you want is in our evidence locker on my floor," Don spelled it out. "I'm taking you exactly where you want because I don't want anyone else involved."

Without waiting for Sam's approval Don pressed the button for his floor and they started up.

The brothers tensed as the doors opened but the floor was just as empty as when Don left it. Moving as if he were in control of the situation he made his way across the bullpen to the storage areas on the far side of the floor. Entering a hall they reached a reinforced door with a placard clearly marking it as 'Authorised Access Only'. He swiped his card against the sensor but found himself hesitating with his hand over the numpad. A second later he entered his code and the door unlocked. There was no point to delaying things, the sooner this was done the sooner the two fugitives would be gone from his life once more.

As they entered the room Don saw Dean's eye taken by a high spec military rifle resting on a shelf. "Don't touch anything," he warned. Having two men who were officially wanted criminals in the locker put far more than just an agent at risk. "Everything in here is evidence on a current case, there is no need to contaminate anything else."

Dean dropped his hand with a last longing look before taking the laser pointer waved at him by Sam. Flicking it on he aimed the invisible beam up at the bubble on the ceiling, blinding the security camera.

"How long before they check on that?" Dean asked.

"At this hour? You don't need to worry about it," Don reassured him. The odds were against someone having been looking at that exact monitor the exact moment it went out so it should look like a simple malfunction when discovered. It would be noted on a work sheet for the morning. "The box is over here."

He led them to the shelf and shifted the other exhibits aside before standing back.

Sam and Dean immediately focused on their task, whatever that might be. Don glanced at the door behind him and assessed whether he could reach it before either of the brothers enabling him to lock them into the secured room. SWAT could then take them down at their leisure. He also wondered whether he should, even if he could. A glance at the logo on the exhibit tags hanging off the items on the shelves solved that for him, there was no choice, he was a duly sworn agent with two wanted felons in his very office. Watching as they carefully moved the box to the floor he found himself hesitating even as they showed no obvious interest in him. It was five paces to the door from where he was, eight from where Dean was. Good enough odds he could make it before they could catch him. Or shoot him. Shaking the last thought off as extremely unlikely he judged the distances again, still finding himself reluctant to do his duty.

About to move he changed his mind as he saw something that wasn't possible, a faint red glow around the seam where the lid of the box met the sides. The box had been opened when it was logged in as standard procedure to confirm if it was empty or to itemise the contents. It had been empty. There was nothing inside it that could possibly glow.

"Hurry, it's started," Sam stated as he also spotted the glow.

"I can see that," Dean snapped. He dug into the bag and pulled out a box of wax crayons. Opening the box he handed one out to his brother.

Within moments they were busily drawing on the polished floor tiles. First they carefully drew a circle around the box and then symbols that Don didn't recognise. He'd been in a circle drawn by the brothers before so he recognised that as a standard occult design but these symbols were different. As Sam made a last few notations Dean sprayed the contents of a small aerosol can over the fire sensor mounted on the ceiling. The why became clear when Sam pulled out a small camp stove and lit the flame. The sensitive device would have been setting off alarms within seconds if it hadn't been nullified. Sam quickly started placing various herbs into a shallow dish above the flame, handed to him by Dean.

Sam then produced an odd knife that glistened blackly in the light. As he used it to prick his thumb the agent recognised it as a stone knife, made probably from obsidian. Sam passed the knife to Dean who repeated the move, cutting his thumb and squeezing several drops of blood into the shallow dish. Dean then turned to the agent, holding the knife out.

"You too, Fed."

"No way," Don refused as he took a step back.

"You don't you'll die," Sam said quickly. "Everyone present has to be included in the spell."

"Do it, or we'll do it for you," Dean threatened.

Don looked nervously towards Sam at that, he didn't want the younger man carving on him again. "Fine," he said tightly. He ignored the contaminated knife Dean held towards him, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own.

"No," Dean snapped. "It has to be this knife. Hurry!"

Before he had a chance to react Dean stepped close and slapped Don's pocket knife away before catching his now empty hand. He found himself pulled roughly over to stop with his hand hovering over the mess they were cooking, Dean clearly impatient. As the knife was raised Don managed to jerk his arm away but found himself shoved against a shelf with Dean's weight on him an instant later. Sam was also on him and once again Don found his hand captured, the brothers working together.

"No, wait," Don said urgently as the knife was brought to bear over the pad of his thumb. The thought of the bloodied blade slicing into his flesh had him trying to pull his hand clear again without success. "Clean it, please. Then I'll do it."

Dean gave him a hard shove before backing off and holding out the stone knife, "Make it quick."

Sam released his hand as he took the knife, turning back to dig into his bag. Under Dean's watchful eye Don pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the blade as clean as he could. It was not good enough but was the best he could do given the circumstances. He put the tip against his thumb as he worked himself up to potentially exposing himself to whatever blood borne pathogens the brothers were carrying. A moment later it didn't matter as Dean's hand slammed down on his driving the knife in.

"Seven drops, move it!" Dean ordered, taking the knife.

Moving forward Don squeezed the requisite drops of blood from this thumb until Sam nodded. The contents of the bowl were stirred and he could have sworn he heard his blood sizzling, a sound that sent a shiver down his spine.

He backed away as Sam started to read from some sheets of paper he pulled from an all too familiar notebook. He squeezed some more blood from the wound on his thumb in an effort to reduce his exposure risk before wiping it with a clean section of his handkerchief.

"Sammy," Dean called warningly.

Don looked away from his ministrations to the older brother, seeing him intently staring at the box. Following his gaze he was astonished to see the lid slowly rising, the red glow intensifying. "What the hell?"

"Close enough," Dean answered. "Come on Sammy, get it done!"

Sam for his part continued to read after only the quickest of looks at the box, his words tumbling from his lips. Abruptly he stopped and used a pair of tongs to lift the shallow dish off the camp stove. Raising it up he intoned some more words in a language Don couldn't follow before upending the contents over the glowing box.

.


	3. Chapter 3

**Numb3rs/Supernatural - Trick**

_**Disclaimer**__ – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs, Supernatural and associated characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Anything you don't recognise is a product of my imagination._

_**Spoilers - Numb3rs: **__nil. - __**Supernatural**__: nil._

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

The smoking leaves started to fall following the laws of physics before a sudden inexplicable breeze sprang up inside the circle, tossing the charred herbs around as if they were caught in a twister. There was no effect on the rest of the room as the mass swirled faster and faster. Not able to believe what he was seeing Don was unable to tear his gaze away as the box suddenly opened fully, an intense red glow blazing forth. The mini-twister suddenly tightened, spinning impossibly fast as it centred on the glow. There was an ear-splitting shriek as the vortex contracted further before being seemingly sucked into the glow and the box. Just as suddenly there was no glow, just an empty box and a few last motes floating gently to the floor, all signs of the impossible twister disappearing in an instant.

Staring at the empty box and the lid lying on the floor beside it Don found himself speechless. He'd seen some impossible things in the times he'd encountered the Winchesters but nothing quite as impossible as what he'd just witnessed. He swallowed and drew his thoughts together as the brothers quickly packed up their stuff and worked to remove their marks from the floor.

"What was that?" He finally managed.

"That was nearly the end of the world," Dean supplied.

"Really?" Don couldn't help the sarcastic tone. Before it was just those in the Field Office that were at risk, now it was the world.

Dean turned and levelled a look at the agent, no humour in his expression, "Really."

"If we didn't stop it in time," Sam qualified.

"So, it's stopped then?"

The humour that had been missing moments before returned, "What do you think?"

"How the hell would I know?"

"Dean!" Sam snapped before his brother could give another non-answer. "It's done."

"So we're done and we can get out of here before you're spotted?"

After a glare at his brother for being shut down Dean nodded, "We're good to go."

Ushering the brothers out he had a quick look at the room, it was almost back to the way it was. Aside from a blinded camera and a damaged smoke sensor all that remained to show anything had happened was a smear of colour on the floor and some charred plant leaves. There was also an out of place box but there was no way he was touching that after what he'd just seen. Pulling the door closed he heard the lock engage. Again the Winchesters were waiting for him so he led the way back across the floor towards the elevators, shoving his bloodied handkerchief into his pocket on the way. Reaching the foyer he pressed the call button only to become alarmed as the seconds ticked by. The lack of a waiting car meant that someone had called it away. Crossing his fingers he hoped it would return empty but somehow knew it wouldn't. His fear was realised when the doors finally opened to reveal one of his more junior agents.

"Agent Eppes!" The agent said in surprise. "Sir, I thought you'd left."

"I had," Don agreed, stepping forward in an effort to focus the man on him. "What are you doing back, Agent Clement?"

"I've forgotten a form. I'm on leave after today so I have to fix it now," Josh Clement explained. He glanced at the two men flanking the senior agent and started to frown.

Hoping it was not already too late Don continued forward into the lift, all but forcing Clement out. "Then you'd best get on it and get back home to start your leave," Don suggested with a slight smile to keep up appearances. Any other time he would have applauded the other agent's dedication but not right then.

As the Winchesters followed Don reached to press the button for the basement when he saw Clement's expression change as he stared at the two 'agents'.

"I know you," Clement started raising his hand to point at Dean, but got no further.

"Leave him be!" Don demanded but it was too late.

Dean had already reached out and grabbed the junior agent by his outstretched wrist, yanking him firmly into the elevator.

Sam pressed the button Don had been reaching for as Dean jammed his gun into Clement's ribs and shoved him against the wall. The younger Winchester then reached into the bag and came back up with the laser pointer that he used on the elevator camera. The laser pointer went back into the bag to be replaced in Sam's hand by the Taurus aimed back at Don. The whole thing had not even taken two seconds with the elevator doors just starting to close.

In the process of moving towards Dean to protect his agent Don stopped and lifted his hands, "Everyone stop! Josh, don't move."

Swallowing at the sudden violence and the two guns in play Clement froze and acknowledged the order, "Sir."

Dean released his grip and used his spare hand to remove Clement's weapon and tuck it into his waistband. He then pushed the second agent towards the first.

"Sir?" Clement questioned in a low voice as they stood together with their hands up under the threat of the two guns.

"They jumped me on the way out and forced me to bring them in," Don explained.

"Why?"

"Quiet!" Dean snapped. With an audience Dean was suddenly all 'hostage taker 101' in keeping with his promise to make it look as though Don was under duress if they were discovered. The doors opened, "Hands down. Out, move!"

Dropping his hands Don gave Clement a nudge in the direction of his SUV then followed the junior agent out. Anticipating the next order Don unlocked the doors only to find himself pressed against the side of the vehicle, along with the other agent, as the two Winchesters crowded in close to block their actions from the security cameras that dotted the ceiling. Dean pulled the empty Glock from Don's holster and dropped it, kicking it under the SUV as Sam gave Clement a more thorough search, coming up with a cell phone that was also kicked out of sight under the vehicle. A second gun went the same way as Dean dropped Clement's weapon.

"You already have me, let Agent Clement go," Don demanded, not liking where things looked to be headed.

"Sir, no!" Clement protested.

He knew where the other agent was coming from; staying together improved the odds somewhat in their favour, making it two on two. But, as Charlie would say, Clement didn't have all the factors he needed. Given the time he'd recently spent with Dean Don could be almost sure he wasn't in serious danger, even if he still wasn't completely decided on where things stood between them. But add another agent into the somewhat unstable mix as looked to be happening and Don could only see disaster.

Moving smoothly as if they'd rehearsed it Sam reached out a hand and grabbed Clement's upper arm, "Come with me."

Dean stepped back and waved his Colt at the senior agent, "Get in and start the car."

"Where are you taking him?" Don demanded automatically.

"Somewhere he'll be safe until we're gone," Dean snapped. "Move!"

"Sir," Clement protested again, pulling against Sam's grip even as he seemed more concerned with what might happen to his boss.

"Josh, do as they say," Don ordered, hoping he was reading things right. "You know what they're capable of."

The junior agent let himself be led away as Don complied with Dean's instructions. His attention was on Clement and Sam however and he had to admit to himself he was relieved when they stopped at a nearby support pylon and he saw Sam take out Clement's cuffs. A moment later Sam was on his way back, leaving the junior agent with his hands cuffed around a metal pipe running down the pylon.

Knowing time was now of the essence Don didn't wait for instructions, he released the brake and drove the short distance to pick up Sam. The younger Winchester was barely in the car, the door not even closed, before Don was on the move again. He jerked to a stop with the SUV's grill almost touching the roller that had automatically started to rise after they'd crossed the sensor. Tapping his fingers on the wheel as the roller insisted on taking its time he glanced across to see Dean staring at him curiously. He glanced up into the mirror as explanation.

Dean looked into the wing mirror, gazing back at the younger agent Sam had left chained to the pipe to see the man jerking around and kicking his legs. "How good are your security dudes?"

"Very good," Don said tightly.

A malfunctioning camera or two was one thing, but the white shirts couldn't help but notice the abrupt movements Clement was making in an effort to attract their attention. With the help of a zoom lens the why would become all too clear. They had only moments before the alert sounded. As if hearing his thoughts the roller abruptly stopped, a long way before its normal track had been completed. A red light started flashing as a siren sounded. With the understanding he had of the building's security protocols there was no more time to waste. Gunning the engine causing his tyres to squeal they flew forwards, the roof of the SUV scraping under the roller that by some miracle was just high enough not to impede them. But they weren't out of the woods yet and he kept the accelerator down, almost making it cleanly across the rising bollards. The SUV's rear bumper was briefly caught and the heavy vehicle jerked upwards but their momentum was enough to carry them forwards and clear.

Now he was thankful for the empty roads as he shot out across two lanes before he fully regained control. Straightening up he kept his foot down, determined to get the brothers back to their car before LAPD arrived on scene, called as another part of the protocol. After a couple of blocks he slowed to the speed limit to avoid detection from any early units. Another few and he pulled to the curb behind the Impala.

Dean pulled out his gun, waving it at the agent in a clear instruction. A little surprised Don shut the SUV down before climbing out.

"What are you doing? You don't need that."

"Making this look good for the cameras," Dean explained with a jerk of his gun. "Just one of the many things I hate about LA. They'll be checking them, won't they?"

A little belatedly Don raised his hands for the surveillance cameras, no longer feeling under any actual threat from Dean's gun now that they'd achieved what they'd come for. He saw Sam toss the bag into the Impala and step back waiting for his older brother. "If you ever feel the urge to come back to LA, don't look me up."

"This isn't good-bye, Fed," Dean said, waving his gun towards the Impala.

There was no mistaking the meaning, "No."

"Again with the stubborn streak." This time it was Dean who sighed. He moved his gun hand slightly, this time in emphasis. "Looks like I do need this. Do I have to put the cuffs on you as well?"

"What the hell, Dean?"

A smirk broke across Dean's face, "Oh man, if you didn't just sound like Sammy then."

"Whatever," Don said before getting back to the point. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you with," the other supplied. "Just til we're clear, sounds kinda like we've kicked the hornet's nest doesn't it?"

"Yes, you did," Don agreed, approaching sirens making that all too evident. That had been the reason behind his rush to get the brothers back to their car. Protocol demanded that an urgent call for assistance would have also gone out to any free agent that could return to investigate the security breach. Delivering them quickly back to their car had given them the best chance to clear the area, a chance that was now evaporating as Dean spun things out. The Winchester brothers had demonstrated on many occasions an ability to seemingly vanish into thin air, why Dean felt he needed to take a hostage to ensure their escape this time was beyond him.

"You don't need to take me along," he argued. "Look you mentioned my cuffs; cuff me to my SUV if you want. It will be obvious I wasn't able to stop you leaving."

"Another thing I don't like about this town," Dean said as he stepped in and shoved the agent back against his door, flipping him around in the process. "Too many cops. We leave you here you'll flag down the first one that passes. I'm guessing that won't be long and we need a bit more of a head start than that with the traffic the way it is."

Knowing there was no point in continuing the argument Don didn't resist as Dean pulled out his cuffs and restrained his hands. Done, he was pulled back a step and then pushed towards the Impala and the waiting younger brother.

"Dean?" Sam asked, sounding somewhat puzzled. Whilst they often seemed to be on the same wavelength there were times when they clearly weren't.

"Too many cops," Dean repeated. The rising cacophony of sirens testified to that.

Sam didn't waste time demanding further explanation. "Fine. Let's just get out of here."

Hustled to the side of the polished black car and the door Sam pulled open ready for him Don experienced another flashback to his nightmare and baulked.

"What is it with you tonight?" Dean suddenly asked. "You're all twitchy."

"You think what you're doing doesn't explain that?" Don responded testily as Dean prodded at him. There was no way he was going to share the details of the nightmare that had him spooked. Forced into the car Don settled himself as comfortably as he could, sitting sideways in the seat as Dean slammed the door shut.

Pulling out they passed the first black & white two blocks away. In an effort to avoid arousing the officer's suspicions Dean pulled the Impala to the right to give the officer as much of the road as he could want. Dean's efforts to appear like a good citizen worked and the officer passed them by with only a glance.

.


	4. Chapter 4

**Numb3rs/Supernatural - Trick**

_**Disclaimer**__ – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs, Supernatural and associated characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Anything you don't recognise is a product of my imagination._

_**Spoilers - Numb3rs: **__nil. - __**Supernatural**__: nil._

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"Here," Sam said as he turned in his seat.

Don looked towards the younger brother's outstretched hand and recognised the silver object dangling from a ring, a handcuff key. Not questioning the offer, Don managed to twist around sufficiently that Sam was able to drop the key into his hand. Some more awkward manoeuvring and he managed to unlock the first cuff with the second one following in short order.

"You think they'll give you a hard time again, Fed?" Dean asked somewhat conversationally.

"Probably," Don grumbled. The day he'd spent being debriefed by two agents from the Behavioural Analysis Unit had been gruelling. He remembered it more as an interrogation where he'd had to be careful of his every word and gesture. Another encounter with the fugitive brothers was just going to lead to more of the same as it was already recognised he was the agent with the most experience with them. There had been another agent, a somebody-or-other Henricksen if he remembered correctly, who'd once had that distinction but he'd been killed a number of years back leaving him the current 'expert'.

"Well, at least they'll think you were forced into helping us like you wanted."

"I was forced," Don stated to make the point clear. After a long pause he continued, "But after what I saw back there I understand you had to get in and do whatever it was you did. Doesn't mean I'll roll over next time you come calling."

"Yeah, I was getting that impression," Dean said wryly. "But at least you're not actually against us anymore. It's nice to have friends in the FBI."

"Hmpf," Don snorted. Whatever their relationship was, it wasn't 'friends'. Their world was totally confusing to him and whilst he could accept they seemed to have the real world's best interest in mind their methods left something to be desired. He'd already accepted that he had somehow along the line decided he would help them where he could, but he still had his own ass to cover.

"So what now?" Don asked as they continued on into the night with Dean taking what seemed to be random turns. "How long you plan on keeping this up?"

"Keeping you, you mean," Dean said.

"Yeah, that."

"I don't know," Dean drawled. "You're kinda fun to have around."

"And you wonder why I don't welcome you when turn up," Don muttered at the deliberate tease. He looked around as they continued down the street thinking on Dean's stated reason for taking him along as a hostage. The sooner they got far enough away from the Field Office to feel safe the sooner they could be on their way and out of his hair. "You want to get away from the cameras, right?"

"Uh, duh."

"Take a right two blocks down," Don suggested.

Dean glanced back at him, "Why?"

"I know LA. I know where the bulk of the surveillance cameras are and where you need to head to get away from them."

"That I get, what I don't get is why you're suddenly all helpful again," Dean said even as he took the turn. "One minute you're on side, the next I gotta put a gun to your head. What gives?"

Don gave voice to his earlier thoughts, "Look, I get that you have a job to do, even if I don't believe half the crazy stuff you talk about. I don't much like how you do it, but I get it."

"Taken you long enough," Dean complained. "Does this mean maybe you will listen next time instead of being all stubborn again?"

"Probably not," Don admitted. "Look, I'm not so much 'on side' as prepared to do what is best for the greater good. Last time that meant treating you like a CI while we went after The Hunter even if I should have arrested you. I will help where I can but if it doesn't make sense or puts me or anyone else at risk, I won't."

"I guess that's fair," Dean said.

"Dean, that's more than fair," Sam put in. "The way you push him it's a wonder he doesn't shoot you on sight."

"I've been tempted," Don put in.

"See now, you and me? I just knew we were gonna be friends," Dean smirked.

Don bit back his first response at that. He might get some of what the brothers were about but he was certainly less than impressed about the idea of Dean thinking him a personal friend. He got back to business, "I'll get you around the areas with the most surveillance so they can't track you and then you can let me out somewhere I can get to a phone. Deal?"

"I guess we can live with that."

"Good, left at the gas station."

N3/SPN

"So they let you go?" Assistant Director Wright asked somewhat doubtfully as Don finished his tale. "Just like that?"

It was over two hours later and Don was back at the Field Office, having only a few minutes before being delivered to the building by an LAPD black & white. Half an hour before that he'd been climbing out of Dean's Impala near a payphone with a few parting words, "I did mean what I said earlier, if you feel the need to come back to LA, don't feel you have to look me up."

"See ya round, Fed," had been Dean's infuriating reply.

Arriving back at the building he'd found himself being ushered straight to Wright's twelfth floor office and his superior's suspicious questioning.

"Yes, sir. Just like that." He had naturally left the final exchange with Dean out of his dot point highlights.

"Why?"

He frowned at the question, his initial thought to wonder if Wright would have preferred they hadn't simply released him. "I gave them no reason not to."

Wright's suspicious glare deepened, "What do you mean by that?"

Treading carefully and trying not to sound defensive he explained, "They let Agent Clement go when they no longer needed him. He hadn't resisted them. I'd done everything they'd demanded so I felt the same would go for me."

"So you just let them take you?"

"Hardly," Don countered. "I tried to talk Dean out of it but he wasn't listening."

"You expected him to?"

"No, not really. But I would have preferred they left me behind rather than get driven halfway across town."

"Hmmm," Wright didn't sound convinced but his expression eased slightly. "So, they let you go. Again."

Standing in the office under his boss' scrutiny Don had to allow that if he were on the other side of the desk facing an agent that had had as many run ins with felons that were fairly high on the wanted lists as he had, he would be suspicious too. It didn't make it any easier to be standing there but he could understand Wright's position.

"Sir, the Behavioural Analysis Unit agents thought Dean might be feeling he has developed some sort of relationship with me based on our previous encounters. Perhaps that is why he has let me go unharmed again. Plus their records don't suggest they have anything against law enforcement, they just impersonate us constantly."

"Perhaps," the ADIC allowed even as he still sounded doubtful. "It is curious the number of times they have managed to come across you out of all the agents in this office. Perhaps they are targeting you or perhaps this 'relationship' has developed both ways."

Despite expecting the accusation he still felt a jolt. Managing to keep the surge of guilt from his face he managed an indignant, "No, sir. You know what they did to me."

Wright waved his hand across in front of him before raising it palm upwards, "I know. I had thought it unlikely, regardless of what the BAU report concluded. But after this latest encounter I'm not sure what to think, especially given your normal arrest record."

"Have I done any worse than anyone else that has had dealings with them?" Don demanded.

The ADIC thought on that for a moment, "I guess not."

"And I'd be more than happy if I never saw them again," Don said, relieved that he'd won the point even as he worried what else might have been in the BAU report. There had been no obvious fall out after it had been submitted but clearly there had been some doubts raised. He dearly wanted to get a copy but knew there was no chance of that.

"Unless you were arresting them."

"Unless I was arresting them," he repeated. "And whilst I don't want them targeting me I would hardly feel happy if they went after anyone else in this office instead. If the BAU is correct I have the best chance of getting out of it unscathed. And maybe the best chance of taking them down if they relax their guard around me."

"You sound as though you expect them to come back," Wright said.

Don ran his hand down his face, it had been a very long day and he was more than ready for it to end. This dance was more than he felt up to but he pressed on, the truth the safest option. "Let's face it sir, I've had far too many encounters for it to be pure chance. Much as I don't want it to be the case I have to allow they may well come back and based on events to date I'll end up mixed up in whatever they're doing again."

Wright regarded him a long moment. Finally he stood, pushing his chair back, "Well, let's hope that doesn't happen."

"Absolutely," Don agreed fervently, not needing to fake the emotion.

"Alright Eppes, it's been a hell of a night for you so you're dismissed."

"Sir."

Wright's voice stopped him as he reached the door, "But I expect you back first thing and a detailed report on my desk by lunch. You can also expect a call from Agent Rush."

"Sir," Don acknowledged before making his escape.

He wasn't surprised, BAU agents Rush and Hansen had flown in to interview him personally after his last encounter. That he would have to deal with them again was a given. He just hoped the phone call wasn't a precursor to another visit as dealing with them was more stressful in many ways than dealing with the Winchesters.

END


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